Progenies of the Great Apocalypse
by Jounouchi
Summary: Priest Seto has been requested to teach the Arabian Prince Katsu the art of summoning KA much to his own personal reluctance. Meanwhile, the threat of Thief King Bakura arises in Egypt and Malik becomes a willing player in his madness. SetxJou; YBxM
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes:** This is my first fanfic in a long time, but considering how I can't find any Yuugiou RPers anymore...this was the result. I hope you guys enjoy it! This will probably become slightly AU, and I'm not sure yet about the smut factor ~ I'll keep you posted. For the record, though, I'm gonna say that in this world Kisara was killed trying to protect Seto's village since I want him to come equipped with the Blue Eyes summoning abilities...and uhh...I'm not going to do my research so I hope my mental picture of Ancient Egypt is not radically far from the truth! ...I did take a world religions class, that should help -- right??? ;;

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Yuugiou in any way, shape or form. This is a non-profit story brought to you sheerly by my imagination and Kazuki Takahashi's characters/plotline.

* * *

Atem sighed. Between the servants bowing to his every whim and the constant questions as to whether he needed anything or not, he found that he was going crazy. Royalty had been all that he had known in life, but sometimes he wished that more people would relate to him on a human level. As it stood, even Mahado took on the role of the respectable priest -- doubling as an advisor in his time of need. There was always Mana, but while her childish antics and absent-mindedness in calling him 'prince' were refreshing, she wasn't really the type he sought either. He felt alone in the world which was a funny thought given how many people surrounded him in his life. No one would ever begin to understand it -- and it would be selfish of him to ever expect them to, so it would be a secret he carried to the grave.

The pharaoh made his way up the stone steps, pushing open the double doors and stepping out onto the balcony. Night enveloped the land, stars glimmering in the clear, evening sky and bringing with it a bitter chill that felt good against his skin. Goosebumps rose to flesh, and Atem closed his eyes for a moment. He imagined what life would be like without the weight of the country resting on his shoulders. For a moment, he imagined being able to do what he wanted freely and not having an attendant at his side -- he thought of the leisure and the unrestrained lifestyle. But those thoughts shattered as an inner voice reminded him that if he wasn't there to do this, then who would be? Who would carry on Akunamukanon's good name? Thick lashes lifted, violet-tinged eyes focusing on the distant landscape. Atem absently heard the approach of footsteps behind him, but he didn't bother to turn. The stranger would speak soon enough, and with as heavily guarded as the palace was -- it wasn't as though it was someone who was a threat. The figure sidled up beside him, standing completely erect and with a certain pride that was unmistakable. Atem managed a side-glance which only confirmed his suspicions.

"Seto..."

"Excuse my intrusion, honorable pharaoh," the priest gave a gracious bow.

Atem didn't bother to right himself, looking toward the distance again, "It isn't an intrusion. I take it that you are finalizing your preparations?"

"Yes. Everything has been completed. Not that I question your decision as the pharaoh, but I have to wonder why I was chosen to take this voyage to help the Arabian prince awaken his KA..."

"You have to question your own abilities?" Atem countered in slight amusement -- although he knew exactly what Seto had meant, he couldn't help but tease him. Clearing his throat, the pharaoh finally pushed himself upright. "It is because you have mastered your abilities from a young age and risen in the ranks to become one of my strongest priests. Since Prince Katsu is around our age, I believe he might learn best from someone he can possibly relate to."

Seto gritted his teeth, blue eyes snapping toward the distance as he appeared to restrain some form of remark. Really, Atem wished he would have said it, but instead he nodded graciously, "I hope it won't take too long. Being away from my pharaoh's side leaves me without a sense of duty."

"Seto, this _is _your sense of duty. Should something come to pass, you will be notified immediately through Isis's KA -- Spiria. However, I do not anticipate anything befalling me in your absence."

"I apologize then if it seems as though I'm complaining."

Atem offered a weak smile, and subtly attempted to prod, "Well how can one hardly blame you when as rumor has it that Katsu is nothing but a spoiled and lazy prince who could potentially have the great ability of a warrior yet does not seem to have the motivation?"

"T-that isn't..." he fell silent for a moment and then hung his head in defeat.

"While it may seem worthless to you, I feel as though this can become a powerful alliance. I wish to bring peace to this land, Seto, which means uniting all our sister nations. Please try to endure...after all, rumors are simply rumors and nothing more."

"I understand, pharaoh."

"Is there anything else you would like to ask?"

"No, that is all. I will take my leave," Seto bowed at the waist and with a flourish of blue robes, he retreated through the same doors he came.

Atem glanced after him for a moment before returning to his thoughts. He sighed, idly toying with the chain which supported the weight of the upside-down, gold pyramid around his neck. The weight was nearly unbearable, but he had to bear it. And he would be lying if he said he didn't wish Seto had stayed by his side to converse for a bit longer. Formalities aside, he was the one priest that Atem felt he could relate to.

***

Morning splashed the land with its brilliant golds and oranges, and life in Egypt began once more. The marketplace bustled to the brim with people, many going from stand to stand like a slow-moving herd. One flaxen-haired fifteen year old had a basket of food in his gold-clad arms, and he stopped before a single booth eyeing the pile of fruit tentatively as though the best tasting apples would make themselves apparent. A few were plucked up and added to the pile before he reached in his pocket and offered the vender a few coins for this exchange. The crowd reached out and consumed him once again, and he blended right in with the group in spite of his odd, lavender eyes and beautifully slender frame.

Malik Ishtar -- younger brother of Priestess Isis -- earned his keep as the palace errand boy. It wasn't necessarily a job he enjoyed, but it _did_ get him out of the place. He felt claustrophobic at times, and often bored -- what with his sister being pulled away for obligations while he sat by himself. The priests were a stuffy bunch, and the servants all had this air of superiority. And the funniest part of all was that the pharaoh was around his age, yet he felt worlds apart from him -- never able to really approach him. Hell, he doubted he even knew he existed, and yet he got to appreciate all the food he collected in the marketplace on a daily basis. Talk about living a spoiled life. Malik huffed a bit, closing his eyes in irritation.

A shrill cry rose up above the chattering, clearly stating that there was a thief amongst them. A few citizens stopped in their tracks, turning to get a better look while others questioned what was going on. There were even some that carried about their business like normal because thievery was such a commonplace occurrence that it seemed like no big deal. Malik, however, really hadn't thought anything until a rough impact sent him flying. The basket tumbled out of his hands, and he mewled when all the carefully picked and paid for fruits and vegetables hit the dirt. Despite the pain and bruises that throbbed their presence known, Malik was more angry than anything. His eyes narrowed, and he snapped his attention at the one responsible.

Standing before him was a bronze figure draped in a deep red robe -- thick and rich like blood. His silver hair gleamed like the moon, and when he snapped cruel, grey eyes down at him, Malik found that his focus lingered on the scar that trailed its track mark pattern beneath his right eyelid. The thief made a sound of disapproval before springing into motion again, light and lithe on his feet like a panther. Malik blinked once or twice before remembering what had happened and quickly furrowing his brows. He pushed up to his feet and tore through the crowd that had surrounded him, abandoning the food and putting his sheer focus on chasing down this man. His sister always said he was irrational, and such words could have never been more true. He had no real plan of what he would do when he caught up to the stranger, nor did he stop to consider the danger of it all.

Malik quickly rounded the corner of a building, skidding to a halt when he saw the thief hunched, eyeing the gold jewelry he had claimed for his prize. He tried to find his voice, but discovered he was breathing too heavy for the words to come out immediately. This allowed the young man to cock his head in Malik's direction, shoving the items into the inner pockets of his robe before stepping forward. At first, Malik took a step back, but he quickly regained confidence and stood his ground.

"Bastard! What the hell were you doing?! You realize that you made me lose all the food I'd paid for?!"

The thief snickered, "Oh, I'm sorry. Am I supposed to care?"

It was probably the nonchalance that angered Malik the most. He clenched his fist at his side and raised it. Without even thinking his arm propelled into motion and was easily stopped by the stranger who closed his fingers around it -- applying a bruising pressure. Malik winced, attempting to draw back but he was only dragged closer -- pulled right up so that the other could get uncomfortable close to inspect him.

"You're nothing more than a nuisance. You think I give a shit about guys like you who can afford a buncha shit and feed yourself well?"

"It was for the pharaoh!" Malik didn't even realize the error in his words until it was too late.

"The pharaoh...?" narrowing his eyes, the silver-haired one suddenly flung his catch to the side. "Then that makes you nothing more than a lapdog!"

He hit the wall with a wince, reaching upward to nurse his shoulder idly, "Someone'll have your head for this!"

A cackle built up in the thief's throat, rumbling low before branching off maniacally. It hadn't been the reaction that Malik anticipated, and he only stared in slight surprise. Teeth were flashed in a twisted grin before the wolfish bandit moved forward, planting his foot atop the golden-haired one's hand and looming in, "You tell your pharaoh that the thief king Bakura doesn't forget so easily. You tell him that if he's not careful where he puts his pawns then he won't have any left."

Malik sputtered something; he wasn't even sure what was about to come out of his mouth when calloused fingers reached out to ghost their way through his hair in mock affection. The cries of the guards saved him from suffering more humiliation as they suddenly made their way around the corner. Bakura smirked, taking a step back before he sprang himself up and out of harm's way. Malik couldn't even follow the thief's movements and before long, he had escaped -- two of the guards chasing him and leaving one to approach with an extended hand.

"Malik, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," shaken, but fine. He accepted the hand, rising to his feet unsteadily. His bruised fingers curled and flexed into themselves as though to assess the damage. "I lost the food because of him..." Malik reached downward, checking for his pouch to see just how much he could afford to replenish when he suddenly realized that was missing as well. "--and my money, too."

"Bakura has been quite a problem. None of us have been able to catch him. However, we don't wish to alarm the pharaoh over the matters of a petty thief."

Malik nodded idly, following along with the guidance and glancing back in the direction that Bakura had disappeared in. He still felt the ghost of a touch in his hair, and it made him shudder. For some reason, he didn't believe for a minute that this was just some _petty thief._


	2. Chapter 2

"Malik!"

The soft, steady footfalls carried the raven-haired priestess into the chamber where she paused in alarm. Malik looked at her briefly and then quickly to the side. It was impressive just how easily she could make him feel guilty even when he wasn't at fault for anything. The medics had cleaned and applied herbs to the scrapes he sustained, but none of it really took away the ache, and it certainly couldn't take away the shame he felt. Just who did this Bakura guy think he is? The more he dwelled over it, the more angry he became.

Isis swept into the room, her palms gently resting on her younger brother's cheeks as she assessed the damage, "What happened to you?"

"Tch, it's a long story."

"I have time..."

His eyes drifted toward the Sennen Torque that hung around her neck, gleaming in the candlelight. Shouldn't she have foreseen it? Then again, he didn't understand how it worked or what parts of the future were open for her viewing -- Malik imagined if she was seeing all of the future at once, it would probably become overwhelming. He lowered his head, eyes lingering on the floor about to disclose the story before Karim appeared in the entrance, knocking lightly against the doorframe.

"Isis, the pharaoh wishes us to see Seto off..."

She appeared torn between being a sister and being a priestess. Ultimately, the latter won but she gave Malik a glance that indicated he wasn't off the hook that easily. Straightening herself, she became a rigid and stoic figure -- as Malik liked to think, it was her mask. Isis left the room with a single word of agreement, and he was by himself once again. Thief King Bakura, huh? Malik smirked. Someone had to teach him a lesson, and what a better way to relieve his boredom than to try and help take down the thief that the guards themselves couldn't get?

He winced, easing off of his seat and following where his sister had gone. While the priests were requested to attend, he was sure that the others were welcome and encouraged to see Seto leave -- he was a crowd favorite, after all. Young, charismatic, and strong. Personally, Malik didn't like him so much, but that was simply because he had always been curt with him, treating him more like an annoying pet that needed to be tolerated for the sake of the owner but not necessarily something he wanted to spend any great deal of time around. Now he would be gone for an undefined amount of time. Hmph, good riddance.

***

Seto stood by with one hand resting on his hip as the slaves tended to his belongings, carrying them out the door and loading them onto horses. Akunadin was at his side, in the midst of going over protocol and informing him of Arabian customs. As the older and wiser priest, Seto held a great respect for the man who had always seemed like a mentor to him since his arrival. He listened gratefully and took the advice to heart before bowing his head and confessing his true feelings on the matter.

"I feel as though this is honestly a waste of time."

Akunadin regarded him quietly before canting his head, "Perhaps, but it also gives you a greater sense of duty. An entire country's balance lies in your hands, Seto. If you make a great impression, you will have secured an alliance between the two nations and begun a step toward greater peace."

"Be that as it may, I think my services are better suited here. Patience is not a virtue I claim to possess."

A gruff laugh escaped the elder as he laid his palm gently on the others shoulder, "You can do only as you are requested and nothing more. Sometimes it is the situations that you least anticipate which have the greatest reward."

"Lord Akunadin..." Seto couldn't hide the appreciation in his voice, no matter how formal he wished to be. He bowed his head gratefully before the interruption of trumpets announced the arrival of the other priests along with the pharaoh.

The group dropped down to their knees, bowing their respect as Atem took his place on the throne. Servants immediately went to his side, large pinions used as a means to shield the heat. "You may rise."

At the command, they stood once more and Seto took a step forward, one hand to his chest, "Pharaoh, I thank you for this opportunity and I will return immediately after my task has been completed."

"I have no doubt, Seto. Isis, would you be able to tell if Seto will leave in good fortune?" Atem craned his head toward the priestess.

"Yes," she closed her eyes, bringing her hands upward to cup the ornament around her neck. It released a golden aura, shimmering brilliantly until a gasp was suddenly pulled into her lips.

"Isis!" Mahado expressed his concern immediately, brows stitching together.

It seemed as though all the priests hung on the edges of silence, anticipating what it was she had seen. All except Seto. He regarded her as if in slight boredom. While her item had come in handy in the past, he didn't believe in an unchangeable destiny when it pertained to him. Any harm, he could easily defeat by his own two hands -- and if that wasn't enough then surely his Blue Eyes White Dragon would have been. However, his surprise came when Isis's expression suddenly warmed over upon meeting his.

"You will have a blessed and eye-opening journey."

Seto's brows lifted. What did _that_ mean? Was she lying for the sake of the others? Was she lying for his own sake? He wished to confront her, to understand what exactly it was she had seen and to swat it down as though it was nothing. While he controlled his own string of fate, he didn't like to be kept in the dark about it. As long as he was in the pharaoh's presence, there was nothing that he could do. His teeth clenched, and he forced his inner emotions back in his mind -- he had become an expert at hiding them, even at times forgetting about them. Emotions were petty and only got in the way of what one wished to accomplish. They were the reason he had rescued that girl Kisara which ultimately ended in her tragic death. Emotions and foolish attachments hindered true power, and Seto wished to be the one to bring great power to Egypt.

"Well then, with that good news I will be taking my leave..." he spun on his heel.

"Wait, Seto--" Atem called out, suddenly rising to his feet.

The taller priest anchored himself, sparing a side glance toward the pharaoh, "What is it?"

He hesitated, the hand he had outstretched drew back slightly and when he spoke, it didn't seem as though the words her chose were his original intention, "May the Gods watch over you in your travels."

"Hn," Seto bowed his head in agreement, "And may they assist in your protection in my absence..."

With that, he continued on his path -- walking along the aisle that led to the door. Servants had bowed along the way, prostrating themselves on the floor to show their respect and he paid them no mind. Blue eyes flickered toward the decorative pillars and noted Isis's brother lurking near one, standing there to meet his gaze. He didn't bow. If anything, he held a hint of relief. Seto didn't bother to analyze the reasons behind it, nor did he care. Instead, he stepped out into the afternoon sun -- meeting with his entourage and climbing onto his horse. He regarded the palace for a few final seconds before giving a swift kick to the animal's flank and stirring it into motion.

The group of priests had slowly trailed after him, watching Seto's departure...and it was then that Mahado turned to Isis curiously, not even needing to speak the words aloud for her to know what he wished to ask. Her hand came up to rest on the necklace and she offered the vague and simple explanation, "Seto will discover what it means to _feel_."

***

The journey took a couple of days of travel by horseback, one across the river, and a few more hours still with the provided caravan from the Arabian dynasty. Seto kept his gaze straight ahead, paying no mind to the onlookers as they went through the city. If he were paying much attention, he might have noted the differences between this country and his own -- but as it was, he didn't desire to stay for long so why waste time with petty things? The difference in the structure of the palace was enough to behold. High arches and towers marked it worlds apart from the rest of the buildings. Egypt was full of symmetry whereas Arabia was full of artistry -- it seemed far too elaborate for the priest.

They arrived in front of the doors and he hopped off of the camel while the servants -- both his own and the Sultan's tended to his things. Seto reached at his side, his thumb tracing the polished surface of the Sennen Rod before he followed his escorts through the building that would become his temporary place of residence. He wouldn't exactly call it a home.

The tapestry inside was colorful and eye-catching, and the floors he walked on were a reflective marble. Stone pillars wound their way up to support the walkways on the second floor. Candelabras hung from the ceiling to provide a well-lit path toward the large doors at the end of the entrance. The guards pushed them open, one dropping down to the ground and quickly declaring Priest Seto's arrival. He stepped in shortly afterward, meeting the eyes of the sultan and bowing his head respectfully.

"Priest Seto..." the older man rose to his feet, moving forward to meet him at the center of the room. "Welcome to Arabia. Can I start off by saying that I greatly appreciate your presence here..."

"It is an honor, your highness," if there was one thing he had become good at during his life -- it was faking respect.

"I suppose you could say that I was becoming desperate. It wasn't as though Katsu isn't a good son -- that's not it in the least. It's just that he...well..."

At those words, the door burst open. Both turned to see a young, blond enter -- his hair a messy heap that dribbled into his honey-brown eyes. The white clothing he wore (and from the slight glimmer, Seto could assume it was silk) seemed to make the young man's tan skin appear even darker. Golden bands lined his forearms, dressed up his collar, and hung from his ears. Accompanying him was another male -- obviously of lesser status from his simple attire, but being treated like an equal by the other who had his arm slung around his shoulder. This male was slightly taller with short brown hair and matching eyes. He appeared to be laughing at something until he caught sight of Seto -- which then he immediately sobered up.

"Father! Hiro and I decided we're going to cross into the Mesopotamian border and--" the blond's voice trailed off as he, too, caught sight of Seto.

"Katsu, this is your instructor -- Priest Seto. I have requested him to come from Egypt in order to teach you to master your KA."

Katsu balked with a single sound, and Hiro immediately rubbed the back of his neck -- muttering about taking his leave and quickly retreating. The blond glared after his companion before turning his attention toward Seto, eyeing him for a moment and then disregarding his presence to address his father, "I don't think this is necessary."

"Well as your father, I _do_ deem it necessary. And from this point forward, I am giving full charge to Seto in order to teach you. What will you do if I become old and you are unable to summon a single KA to protect this country? As sultan, that will never do. You have a duty to keep the people here safe, Katsu...and at fifteen, you are more than grown-up enough to do so. Seto is your age and already worlds ahead."

"But--!"

"No buts. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe the sooner you begin getting acquainted, the quicker this can be concluded. Priest Seto has duties of his own to attend to, you realize..." the sultan pinched the bridge of his nose wearily before sparing an apologetic glance to the borrowed teacher-to-be. Then, he departed through the doors and left the pair alone.

"Tch, I guess I should show you where you're gonna be staying."

The prince sneered at the priest, and Seto held a stern gaze. Inwardly, he rolled his eyes as he followed. This was going to be even more agonizing than he had originally anticipated.


	3. Chapter 3

"I assume you're gonna be in this room -- it's where all our _important _guests go," Katsu waved toward a set of doors flippantly, arm bands jangling.

Seto had held his tongue, pressing his palm against the entrance and pushing inward. Sure enough, his belongings had been brought there -- set in a neat stack in the corner. The room itself was far fancier than Seto felt he needed; with silk canopy draping over the bed and plush and tasseled pillows filling the mattress. There were a few cushions for sitting, and an urn that filled the room with the scent of sandalwood. The priest idly made his way toward his belongings, beginning to untie the twine that sealed them.

Katsu sidled up against the archway, raising his brows, "Look. I don't know who you are. I don't really care. My father pulled you in here to teach me things, but from now on...I'm calling the shots."

Seto's brows lifted, "Is that a threat?"

"I'd call it more like I'm putting you in your place," a faint smirk pulled on the corner of his lips.

Without warning, the priest withdrew his Sennen Rod, exerting a bit of energy to release the magic -- magic which sealed itself around the prince and flung him against the furthest wall. In the same moment, the doors slammed shut behind them, giving him the utmost privacy. Seto walked forward, reaching out to grab the blond strands and jerking the others head back. He had to hold back his laugh at the realization the prince had probably never been treated in this manner, and though he was able to do that, he couldn't contain the cruel grin.

"I came here with one purpose only -- to teach you what your father requested. He has given me full charge over you which means you can either do this the easy way or you can do this the hard way, and if you even think about threatening me again, I will not hesitate to show you exactly why you need a KA to protect yourself."

Katsu gritted his teeth and while he tried to appear strong, there was a very real sense of fear in his eyes. Seto let out a chuckle -- a humorless sound that rumbled in his throat. The power suddenly released itself, and the blond withered against the wall, taking a moment to pull in a very audible breath. His fingers clenched and unclenched before tightening in rage, and in an instant he charged forward with a fist raised and ready to strike Seto. The priest easily avoided the attack and grabbed the other by the back of his fancy garment, slamming him into the wall face first and keeping him pinned there.

"Face it, _prince_. You're just no match for me. The best you can do is grin and endure because we are going to spend a great deal of time together -- and as fun as this is, I'm sure you'll grow weary of it very fast."

The priest released his grip abruptly, watching as the other slid to the ground. He waited to make certain that no other attacks were going to come his way. Judging from the looks of things, Katsu had given up -- still conscious but remaining in his place to sulk and collect the pieces of his broken pride. Then again, that was how this would work. Seto destroyed the pride of this annoying, second-rate fool and allowed him to build it back up by summoning a monster. Then, he would be allowed to leave after having fulfilled his duty and created a young man who would always aspire to become greater than him. Naturally, Katsu would never reach his level...but it was fine for him to aim high.

Seto made his way toward the bed, sinking down onto the surface. He watched in satisfaction as Katsu slowly pushed himself upright, reaching up to wipe the blood away from his nose and sniff up the excess. No one had annoyed him more than this fool -- mostly because he had never been stuck around a worthless idiot such as this prince. Seto made it a point to only surround himself with people he deemed worthy and that was why he didn't stop until he became a part of the six priests protecting the pharaoh. If he could return to Egypt and demand that another priest be sent in his place, he certainly would. But for the sake of the pharaoh's wishes, he was stuck here and forced to deal with it. The situation was just as agonizing for him as it was for the blond.

"You really think you can get away with doing that...?" Katsu managed to choke out, bracing his palm against the wall to aid himself in standing.

"An unruly dog must be put in his place and taught who is the real master," Seto folded his arms.

"Who the hell are you calling a dog?! I'll show you!"

"Don't you learn?"

Apparently not. Katsu had already balled up a fist in preparation to attack. He sprang off his heels and launched himself forward. Seto didn't bother to move an inch, instead the _dia diankh _around his wrist extended its golden wings as an image of a monster appeared on one of the ovals. The beast materialized itself in the room, blocking the path. Katsu connected with the creature, skidding back a few steps to behold it in surprise. The surprise quickly changed to fear as Seto commanded the overgrown, warrior oxen to attack -- using enough of his BA to knock Katsu out, but not nearly enough to kill him.

As the prince crumpled on the ground, the creature faded into nothing and Seto stood, approaching the unconscious body. He nudged him over with his foot and stared down at him with cold blue eyes, "Hn. This is going to be a great annoyance." He grabbed one of the sheets from the bed, tossing it over the prince and not even bothering to fix it appropriately. The blond was lucky he had even gotten _that_ much. Katsu was going to be out cold for the night, and perhaps even partially into the day...and when he woke up, Seto would show him no mercy in his training. An irritation such as this deserved no sympathy or special treatment.

***

When Katsu awakened, he found himself in the arena room, propped up against a wall. Everything ached -- but it wasn't a reachable ache; it was as though it was coming from the inside out and he couldn't pinpoint it to one specific thing. His head lifted slowly, blurred vision taking in the sight of the Egyptian priest who stood at a slight distance. All that he had forgotten for however long he had been unconscious, Katsu suddenly recalled then. It filtered into him like a violent hatred. Just who the hell did this guy think he was?

"It's about time you woke up..." Seto's tone was cold, and it caused Katsu to narrow his eyes.

One hand moved back against the wall, the other clutching his chest as he slowly eased himself upright. No one had ever treated him with such insolence in his life! Katsu prided himself on being a decent guy who was able to get along fairly well with everyone, but that changed when Seto came to this country. He had never hated anyone so violently. His teeth grit, a low sound of irritation rumbling in his throat. This earned a laugh from his so-called instructor who merely tossed something to the ground -- it skid across the stone and stopped at his feet. Katsu blinked down at the golden object, bending down to lift it up and inspect it.

"This is called a Dia Diankh. It is the main instrument used in a duel," Seto drew his arm back toward his chest, displaying the one he wore. "It connects with your life force and allows you to convert it in summoning a KA. This takes focus and strength of will."

Katsu regarded the object and then slipped it into his wrist, feeling the weight of it. Much to his surprise, three wing-shaped parts jutted out -- each revealing an oval-esque pattern. Seto tapped a glowing one in the center, continuing his explanation. "This is your BA. Hn, it seems as though yours is only partially full at the moment. Either way, it is the strength you have to summon."

"Save your boring explanations for someone who cares," Katsu snapped at the priest, glaring down at the band. "I could figure this out easily if I wanted to."

"Oh, could you? Then why was it your father requested my presence if you are such a quick learner?"

"Tch, if a bastard like you can do it, then it's gotta be simple. I'll show you I don't need you around, and then you can just get on your horse and go right back to Egypt."

"Do you really think you're anything without me?"

"I didn't ask for you to come, and I'll show you why!" Katsu glared.

"Then by all means -- try."

The prince stared at the other for a moment -- as though anticipating more of an argument. However, the patronizing words were enough to make him want to do something. Katsu extended his hand, fingers outstretched. He wasn't sure what the feeling was that rumbled inside of him; it felt like nothing he ever experienced before. His blood seemed to boil, and another being felt physically present for all of a second before it split from him in a brilliant flash of light and appeared in front of him. The creature was small, wielding a sword and shield while it hovered above the ground. Katsu scrutinized it with impressed shock -- stunned that such a thing came from him without any formal training and proud that it did. He grinned with a renewed sense of strength.

"Go forth -- Landstar Swordsman! Attack Seto!"

The monster launched forward; its beady eyes narrowed with determination as it lifted its sword, but just before landing the strike -- the area before Seto exploding with a brilliance and when the flash subsided, a KA twice the size of Landstar Swordsman stood there. It deflected the attack with a menacing growl and drove its own blade directly through Katsu's creature. The prince felt as though it had sliced through his own stomach; the pain was immense. Katsu reached down to clutch the area, dropping to his knees with a shuddering breath when the monster he summoned disappeared into wisps of air. Seto recalled his monster, causing it to vanish so that he could step forward toward the blond. He reached downward, fisting the others shirt and yanking him off the ground. Katsu found himself forced at eye level.

"You'll do best if you listen. If not, it'll only be more painful for you. You may rest for the day," he dropped the other down carelessly before striding out of the room.

Katsu crumpled to the ground, lingering there for a moment. His fist curled at his side, and he suddenly pounded it against the floor, "Goddamn it!!"

***

Malik got up in the middle of the night, wedging his pillow beneath the covers and drawing the blankets up over them. He doubted that anyone would come in to check on him, but this was just a precaution. Most everyone in the palace except the guards were asleep, and even they couldn't stay wide awake. Slipping out would be a simple matter. He had done it plenty of times to sit beside the Nile and bask in the peace of the evening, and this time his intentions were a bit more purposeful. A dagger was taken from one of his drawers and slipped into his belt.

He was ready. Malik slipped out the door and kept to the shadows, back pressed against the wall and fingers skimming the stone surface. He could see a few guards in the main entrance, conversing about something. He waited until they weren't looking before silently moved to the window, climbing onto the edge of it and jumping out onto the ground. A few of the guards turned in his direction, and Malik quickly ducked around the corner of the palace, holding his breath until they dismissed it as some animal. He hooked his fingers in the grooves of the stone that made the surrounding barrier to the castle, pulling himself up onto it before he hopped over the side.

And just like that, he was out. Really, security needed to be a bit tighter. Then again, with the power of the priests -- the pharaoh could probably relax. They would never allow any harm to befall him, and their strength of protection was tremendous. Maybe someday, Malik would get to stand as one of them -- at his sister's side, doing something to keep the country safe. And it would begin with one _petty thief_ at a time.

He didn't really have much of a goal beyond going to the nearest tavern and inquiring there. With any luck, most of the scoundrels would be out drinking at this time and they would be able to point him in the right direction. Malik swept his gaze over the barren streets. The city was eerily quiet -- all except the boisterous laughter that came from the only lit building. Candlelight glowed through the windows, and only as Malik approached did the fear begin to settle coldly in the pit of his stomach. There was nothing to be afraid of, he tried to reassure himself. Bakura may have been a thief, but Malik came from a line of priests -- there was clearly power in his blood.

The doors were pushed inward, and the noise became amplified. A few of the patrons glanced his way, but most carried on with what they were doing which, for the most part, was gambling. Malik lingered where he was, realizing that he didn't exactly have a plan but it didn't deter him. He reached out to grab the shoulder of the nearest drunk, whirling him around.

"Have you seen someone who refers to himself as thief king Bakura?"

Before the man could answer, and before Malik was even aware of what happened -- he was suddenly ripped away from the stranger, fingers releasing the fabric they originally grabbed in shock as he was forcibly spun to face someone. The candlelight illuminated the man's face in a way that made him appear a hundred times more vicious, and Malik's focus went to the track mark scar. Bakura.

"He's right here," the silver-haired bandit taunted, lips twitching cruelly.


End file.
